


talk is cheap, my darling

by jayzeniel (sawuhs)



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Fingering, M/M, NOTHING BUT SMUT HERE MY DEAR, Ronan-centric, Top!Adam-ish, blowjob, ending compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 17:57:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9000811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sawuhs/pseuds/jayzeniel
Summary: “You’ll come before you finish a cigarette,” Adam said. Though judging by his tone, it sounded like it could be either a question or an instruction, so Ronan wasn’t sure if this was actually a challenge or a demand, and while a retort laid heavy on his tongue, he didn’t know if that, or a shove, was the appropriate response to Adam’s words.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For M, who forced me to finish reading The Raven King because I was too afraid my heart couldn't bear meeting the end of the series. This is for you. (My heart honestly couldn't take it, but I'm sort of surviving it anyway.)
> 
> The title is from the song 'Talk is Cheap' by Chet Faker.
> 
> Merry Christmas, y'all!

“You’ll come before you finish a cigarette,” Adam said. Though judging by his tone, it sounded like it could be either a question or an instruction, so Ronan wasn’t sure if this was actually a challenge or a demand, and while a retort laid heavy on his tongue, he didn’t know if that, or a shove, was the appropriate response to Adam’s words.

On the kitchen counter, Ronan’s fingers twitched against the cigarette box resting under his hand.

“Well?” Adam asked, twisting his body to face Ronan in that fucking coquettish manner that always made an intense flare of _want_ fire through Ronan’s core.

It was then that Ronan opened his mouth and snapped, “Fuck off, Parrish,” but all Adam did was bite back a smirk and take a long step forward to close the gap between them.

“Scared?” Adam taunted, which only served to make Ronan scoff, pick at his well-worn leather bracelets, and glare out the rackety window of their shitty house—the very one near Adam’s college that Gansey had insisted the five of them put money into to buy so that they always had a place to call home despite the two clear flaws in Gansey’s logic that even Opal, of all people, could have seen through.

After all, this new home of theirs wasn’t in Henrietta.

And although they had bought the house (with much reluctance on Adam’s part), the other flaw became even more blindingly obvious when Adam had been the only one who lived there for the first year and a half while Blue, Gansey, and Henry travelled and hiked and Ronan stubbornly stayed at the Barns with Opal, trying to fix things back to the way it was, until it finally slapped Ronan in the face how futile an attempt it was since Cabeswater wasn’t actually there anymore, and Declan and Matthew would probably never come back from D.C., and his mom was staying dead—wasn’t she?—so he had packed nothing but Opal into his car and sped down an endless amount of roads until eventually he crashed into the ugly mailbox of their even uglier new home.

“Where’s Opal?” Ronan asked.

“Out with the rest,” Adam said. “They won’t be home till midnight.” His eyes lingered on Ronan’s exposed collarbone, then lingered even longer on Ronan’s boxers where it blatantly outlined his erect cock because he simply refused to put some pants on in their own home regardless of the number of objections Blue had about it.

“Don’t you have some sort of homework to do?”

“This won’t take long.”

“Whatever.”

“Do you think I can’t do it or do you think that you just won’t last?”

Ronan’s eyes narrowed over to Adam’s lips.

“Because I think it’s the latter.” Ronan’s eyes shot up, meeting Adam’s mischievous, calculating blue orbs.

“Bring it,” Ronan hissed, and flipped open the box of cigarettes with his thumb and took a stick out.

When Adam sank to his knees and pulled Ronan’s boxers down in one fluid motion, causing his cock to droop, heavy, between his legs, the cigarette crumpled in Ronan’s fist.

“Cheat,” Ronan accused, but wasted no time fishing for another cigarette.

Already, Ronan could feel Adam’s warm breath against his skin, those clever fingers skating up thighs scarred from both careless and impulsive cigarette burns until they rested right on top of Ronan’s protruding hip bones. Adam leaned forward, his nose nestling against soft dark brown hair, and there, he said, “I don’t need a handicap, Ronan.”

“Fucking hell, Adam.” Ronan tore his eyes away from Adam and stared at the cigarette held between his thumb and index finger before he brought it to his own lips. At the same time, Adam darted his tongue out and pressed it flat to the side of Ronan’s shaft. He lapped at it with excruciating slowness, not even bothering to stretch his tongue out to lick more than what he now could.

Ronan raised an eyebrow, unconvinced of this contest, this dare, this—whatever the hell it was. He struck the wheel of his lighter and lit his cigarette. Adam was still tonguing at the same spot, and he didn’t look like he was going anywhere any time soon. Ronan rolled his eyes and sucked his cigarette. It crackled and glowed orange and filled Ronan’s lungs and Ronan was sure it wouldn’t take long for him to finish it. He started to exhale.

In the next moment, a few things happened in quick succession.

As soon as Adam’s hands left Ronan’s hips, his tongue also slid up the length of Ronan’s cock. Then, Ronan caught a glimpse of Adam reaching backwards where a tube stuck out of his own jeans. There was a ‘ _krrrrrck’_ sound, but before Ronan could make sense of it, Adam was snatching the back of Ronan’s left knee and hauling it over his right shoulder, forcing Ronan to balance on one foot. Ronan tried not to choke on cigarette smoke, but it didn’t help that Adam was choking on his dick.

Here’s the thing: because of Adam’s scrawny figure, everyone, including Ronan, had a tendency of forgetting that Adam (had and still) worked as a mechanic, which meant hidden muscles and strength under layers of tanned skin and clothes.

“Jesus, _fuck._ ”

Adam only smiled around his cock and brushed a cool and wet finger along the crease between Ronan’s cheeks with precision—the sole warning Ronan was given before he was breached. It made Ronan’s stomach twist with the realization that Adam had probably planned this.

Ronan tilted his head back, a guttural moan escaping his lips where the cigarette uselessly dangled. He pulled it away, letting it dangle even more uselessly over the sink between his fingers. With his other hand, Ronan carded his fingers through Adam’s hair. It was no longer cropped; Adam had let it grow out so that it now fell over his ears in a tumble and perfectly framed his prominent cheekbones, though it was still unevenly cut.

Adam allowed Ronan three shallow thrusts of his finger before he added a second, stretching Ronan out in a way that both burned and made Ronan’s toes curl against the polished, scratched wooden floor. Ronan cracked his eyes open and looked down to find Adam staring back at him. Had Adam’s eyes even left him once?

 _Fucker must have planned this,_ Ronan decided, then said, “When the fuck did you become so devious, Parrish?”

Adam’s only response was curling his fingers against the spot that compelled another moan out of Ronan’s throat. Ronan imagined that if Adam spoke, he would have said something that had to do with growing up with an abusive father and being around Ronan for so long. The idea of the latter tugged at the corners of Ronan’s lips, but he gritted his teeth instead because Adam had started rapidly bobbing his head up and down his dick.

Worse (or probably better, depending on how one looked at it), Adam had also started to pump his fingers into Ronan in earnest.

Ronan’s knee buckled, but Adam steadied him by placing his free hand protectively over Ronan’s hip again. There, Adam pressed his thumbnail in, grounding Ronan even though behind his eyelids he saw stars.

Ronan cussed.

When Ronan met Adam’s eyes again, those twinkling blue orbs flitted over to the half-finished cigarette for a second, as if to remind Ronan of their little gamble. Ronan sneered and took a long sip from his cigarette, and as the burnt carbon laced smoke smothered his lungs, Ronan grinned, remembering why he liked to smoke.

Only a third of the cigarette remained.

“Well?” Ronan challenged, bringing both his hand and the cigarette back to the sink. He began to flick the ashes off the cigarette.

Unfortunately, it was the same moment Adam chose to push a third finger into Ronan’s hole, which meant that Ronan flicked the cigarette so hard that it tumbled off his fingers and landed into soaked bowl with an angry fizzle, effectively putting it out. Ronan swore again, but it wasn’t just the stretch he felt that made his balls draw up tightly, it was also the constrict of Adam’s throat around his dick, and— _fuck,_ it felt so good _._

Adam eased off Ronan’s cock despite the tight grip in his hair, though his fingers remained relentless. “You’ve lost, Lynch,” he said, rubbing his damp swollen lips against the head of Ronan’s dick. There were trails of spit around and down his lips. The sight caused Ronan to clamp around Adam’s fingers.

“Doesn’t count, you fucker,” Ronan growled. “You cheated.”

Adam laughed as he tucked his fingers deep and firm inside Ronan. He spread his fingers, scissoring them as much as he could, all while coaxing Ronan’s prostate with his middle finger. “You love that, don’t you,” Adam murmured when Ronan yanked Adam’s head forward. “I would have won anyway, you know. You’re so close.”

 _I should have punched him when he suggested this stupid thing,_ Ronan thought fleetingly, but then Adam was swallowing his cock again, so fast and deep and _rough_ that Ronan couldn’t help but slam his fist on the kitchen counter as white sparked in his vision and he came violently down Adam’s throat. And, _of course,_ Adam had to gulp it all down like he had been stranded in the Sahara for years on end.

“Fucking hell, Parrish.”

“Uh huh,” Adam replied, once he’s done all of freeing his fingers, licking his lips clean, and standing up. He did nothing to hide his own hard-on.

Ronan's knees only wobbled a little from suddenly having to support himself upright. He rested more weight against the kitchen counter. “That didn’t count.”

“Don’t be such a sore loser, Ronan.”

“You _cheated._ ”

“We can try that again.”

“No, you know how fucking sensitive I am when you do shit like that.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Whatever, Parrish.”

Adam tilted his head, but he was beaming, and in retaliation, Ronan snatched a fistful of Adam’s shirt and drew him in close. He wiped the saliva and semen off Adam’s chin that Adam’s tongue didn’t reach, and he had this gut feeling that Adam was holding back some disgustingly sweet words, like how Ronan’s eyes might have seemed _fond_ at that moment. (Which they were.)

So, when Adam’s mouth opened, Ronan quickly decided to shut him up by pressing their lips together.

Besides, it was nearly midnight and everyone would soon be home, and pillow talk could wait until they were both naked, sated, and lying in bed together.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm astralitte on tumblr, look for me there! Also, Kudos and Comments are always welcome and loved.


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